Art in War
by Tashash
Summary: Whirlblade became a fighter out of nessecity, the war took her family and her art. Rated for safety, not really adult themes. Completed Oneshot. Pre-G1


Disclaimer: Own nothing, don't even feel much claim over the OC.

A/N: Challenge fic. Pre-G1. Enjoy, and that's all folks ( Dont' own it!) Oh and one teeny thing, 'Lithium' is not just a medication but also a metal - seriously, check.

Art in War

Iacon, great city of Cybertron, site of the Autobot stronghold and the destination of Kup's newest presentation of fresh soldiers.

Fresh metal; Whirlblade knew that was basically what she and the others were, she _was_ slightly miffed at the term but it was cold hard reality that most of them were just that and would probably end up one with the Matrix sooner or later. Very few soldiers survived long these orns. What worried her was that she wasn't sure whether she was afraid of deactivation or not.

'_What exactly have the Decepticons left me to live for? My creators, my sibling creation, many of my friends are gone, thanks to them. All that's left is my art and war is too chaotic a time for such things.'_

Oh it hurt to think about them, still, after all this time.

'_Her sibling creation, only two orns old, still in his primary protoform, his happy trills and chirps and affectionate nature. Her creators; their strong bond, their united joy at her artistic talent, their protection, guidance and the never ending love that they never denied their creations.'_

The memories hurt, but it seemed...ugly not to think of those she had lost, as if she were trying to forget them. She never wanted to forget and had taken pains not to; her most prized possessions were the miniature figurines of her family unit and her closest friends, possibly her best work and more so because she had never attempted miniature work before, carved with her very Spark as a tribute of love to those she missed.

Even her unique, frenetic carving style couldn't survive in this war; there was no time, even at the speed she worked, to create pieces, supply of even the most basic mediums was short and in any case exhibition halls and studios had either been obliterated or converted to the war effort. The energy she had once put into sculpting had been put into training, her carving blades now cut Decepticons, not her usual art mediums.

Whirlblade looked over at the faded, battle-scarred frame of Kup, their main trainer. He had a habit of keeping his distance from the trainees but was in no way unfriendly or cruel. He tried to help them, by training them well, helping them keep their sanity, trying to ease the fear they all felt.

He tended to go slightly harder in training on Whirlblade than the other, mech, recruits. She was glad of it; few femmes had survived the annihilation of the youth sectors and even fewer survived without a creator or bonded, if not to protect them then at least to watch their backs. The concern was not only limited to femmes, there was just a higher chance of 'something worse than death' (As Kup had in a rare moment of delicacy put it) happening to a lone femme.

'_If it wasn't for my blades and the other recruits I would be in serious trouble.'_

It should have made her angry, the Decepticons view of femmes. The rape and torture running rampant, what had happened to the youth sectors, the loss of her family unit, her social unit, the loss of her vocation and love in art. It should have made her furious. The trainers and other trainees had gone through a period of believing that she was hiding the anger, but there was no anger, only pain.

Whirlblade _missed_ what she had lost but she didn't want revenge, it seemed so pointless, even if she killed every Decepticon who had wronged her she still would miss what she lost, the pain wouldn't go away. She disliked fighting, by now she was fairly proficient in it but it still wasn't her idea of fun.

It wasn't that she didn't believe in the Autobot cause, Megatron was both evil and completely insane, the youth sectors had proved that. Also the thought of never-ending conquest was ridiculous, look what this war had done! How could a society that was constantly at war, even if it wasn't with itself, function? If those in positions of power were away at war then who would keep order, make decisions?

No, she _believed_ in her cause, she just wasn't too good at doing much more than believing.

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They had finally arrived at the Iacon base, numerous security checks later they found themselves lined up and facing those who now held their lives in their hand, as Prime introduced his officers. No introduction was needed for Prime himself, first of a new line of models, vibrant blue and red armour, much taller than the average Cybertronian and much stronger. He was quite hard to not recognise. Her inner artist mentally categorised him as 'cubist', inwardly she cringed, sometimes that thing could be so cruel.

Next was a black and white mech who exuded an air of calmness and competence called Prowl, next was the weapons specialist Ironhide, coloured red and quite possibly a walking armoury. Whirlblade had the sinking feeling that if anyone could push a soldier further than Kup it would be this mech. Last of the officers was a smaller, silver mech whose eyes were hidden by a blue visor. She idly wondered what he had done before the war, he moved like a dancer.

Two more mechs, both with red prevalent in their colour scheme (What was it with red and Autobots she wondered?) were introduced to the recruits as Red Alert, security director and Blaster, communications officer. Blaster was a 'cassette player' a Cybertronian who housed smaller, sentient or non-sentient drones called 'cassettes'. Whirlblade was intrigued, she had never met one before, they were quite rare and she hoped to get a chance to ask the mech about his cassettes.

Now it was Kup's turn to introduce them, that usually wasn't standard procedure but since this was a small group Prime had asked that Kup introduce them. Whirlblade's estimation of the Autobot commander went up, not only would it be a chance for the officers to put a name to a face but their reactions and to some point their personalities could be gauged. Kup called their names and basic functions out.

"Antivirus, medical training, three guesses what he's an expert in. Delete, demolitions. Engage, sniper. Headstrong, frontline fighter. Joyride, does nothin' but go fast far as I can tell."

This was an old joke; Joyride _did_ do little more than go fast but he was damn good at it. "Use what you've got or lose it quick!" was one of Kup's training mottos.

"Lithium, Molten, Tumult, Underside an' Whirlblade, basic grunts."

She knew it was coming, the slight shock at seeing a femme recruit and a basic grunt at that. They'd get over it or pretend they had. But Prime, no matter how hard she studied him gave no adverse reaction; there was only welcome and acceptance.

"Welcome Autobots. I hope that you will some sort of home here, such as can be made in these times. We Autobots believe that co-operations and friendship win more battles than power and fear. I know you will find that to be the truth in your hearts."

It was much better being an Autobot she decided. She might not be able to replace what she had lost, but she could try and regain it.

Fin.


End file.
